A Walk at Rosings
by elvenwanderer
Summary: Elizabeth is knocked unconscious during her walk with the Colonel at Rosings. This "what if" that starts before Darcy has the chance to propose. Incomplete; please tell me if I should continue.
1. Chapter 1

Notes:

• Can you tell I am not enthused by any of the _actual_ work I have to do? Or that I'm avoiding it like the plague?

• I do not plan on slowing down on OMD.

• I am trying to keep everyone in this story as close to themselves as possible, though I don't know how much success I'm having. I don't tend to write them as characters I don't like, so it should work out. Bear with me.

• I'm considering using this as a "choose your own ending" type story if I have enough interest from readers. I'll give you two or three choices at the end of each chapter (starting at the end of Chapter 2) and then write where the majority of you want me to go. If no one replies, then meh, I'll write how I want. I also don't expect each chapter to be very long.

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Summary: Elizabeth is knocked unconscious during her walk with the Colonel at Rosings. This "what if" that starts before Darcy has the chance to propose. Incomplete; please tell me if I should continue.

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While reading Jane's most recent letter from Town while on her morning walk, Elizabeth was quite surprised to find Colonel Fitzwilliam crossing her path. Waving at him from a distance, she quickly folded the letter and returned it to her reticule. When the normal greetings had been taken care of, the two continued on back in the general direction of the parsonage. The dialogue was easy between them, as a quick friendship had sprouted during their stay at Rosings and the parsonage. After a while, Elizabeth remarked that she had not seen him walk through that part of the grounds before, to which he replied that he made a full tour of the park each year at the end of his stay. As their conversation of books, authors and discussion of the antics of Lady Catherine progressed, both found little reason to discontinue it by a premature stop at the parsonage and so their feet took them away again. Elizabeth learned of and teased him about his supposed woes as the second son of an earl and his subsequent comments about other such males' marriage to wealthy women. The comment having been intended as such, Elizabeth took it as a gentle hint that their friendship, amiable and easy as it was, would never progress further. She was not of a sort to be hung up in sadness about men and would therefore not be unhappy about him. They walked some distance into the park, losing track of the time and eventually being quite beset by an afternoon rainstorm. As they were now somewhat far from either the parsonage or Rosings, they ran a short distance to take shelter beneath a large tree and wait out the storm.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, I do believe this is a rather unfortunate addition to your park tour!" Elizabeth yelled over the thunder, a grin on her face at the excitement, and her face flushed red from running.

The Colonel laughed and wrung the first layer of water off of his coat sleeves. "Rather unexpected, yes Miss Elizabeth, but spending the time with such a beautiful woman is hardly unfortunate." Elizabeth just looked at him, dripping wet and slack-jawed. She was not used to the men of her acquaintance being so forward, much less the same man who had only moments ago counseled her against allowing affection towards that particular second son of an earl. Seeing her reaction and remembering what he'd said, the Colonel paled. "Miss Elizabeth… I…." He had meant the best for her, he truly had. Suddenly at a loss for words, he turned around and walked to the opposite side of the trunk of the tree, leaving her momentarily alone.

The colonel raked his hands through his sopping wet hair. He had held Miss Elizabeth in very high regard since they met nearly a month previous. She was not the typical classical blonde beauty that normally attracted him but instead had a lively and intense spirit. He had been surprised and impressed by her wittiness and impertinence, not to mention how well and easily she managed to discomfort two of his most resolute and proud relations. Her character had intrigued him for a few months before that when Darcy started mentioning her in correspondence. Any woman who garnered Fitzwilliam Darcy's interest was certainly worth knowing, if only to tease him for it later. As for the extent of his cousin Will's interest, Richard was well aware of his exceedingly high opinions of Miss Elizabeth after a very candid conversation over most of a bottle of brandy. Consciousness of his cousin's affections as well as the truth of the unsuitability of a match between an essentially dowerless lady and himself did little to hamper his own regard and growing feelings for the lady, however. They both were tricksters, though neither aimed to harm in their jests, but he and Miss Elizabeth also carried a very serious and loyal aspect that once incited toward another was lasting. He wanted to think of her as a friend, but realized with a start that he thought of her compassion and vivacity for life as a good match for his own cheerful nature. She had become unattainable to him through no fault of her own (_or my own_, Fitzwilliam thought with cold humor) and therefore was all the more wanted. All his admiration of her character aside, he did not mean to have said that last comment to her. Though praised by his cousin for his discretion when it came to other matters, he had never been known for being so tight-lipped about his own thoughts.

With a sharp crack, lightning struck their shelter, showering both Miss Elizabeth and the Colonel with bits and pieces of the above tree. The lady shrieked, trying to cover her head from the onslaught but was knocked unconscious by a falling branch. Fitzwilliam ran back around the base of the tree upon hearing her cry out. If he was pale before, what blood was left in his face left it now seeing Miss Elizabeth unmoving on the ground. Kneeling to assist her, he tossed the offending branch away, finding it had ripped part of her bodice. Looking aside and blushing, he quickly removed his jacket and placed it over her torso to protect her modesty and finding that she still breathed, he checked her arms and legs for obvious breaks. Finding none, he mumbled an apology to the lady as he gingerly touched her head to check for the injuries that must be there. A large bump was already forming on the top of her scalp, but she did not appear to be bleeding. That was a relief.

He stood up again and turned on the spot and paced. He had no idea what to do. A well-respected Colonel in the His Majesty's army or not, he was clueless when it came to dealing with unconscious young ladies. Injured, unconscious young ladies that he had feelings for. Injured, unconscious young ladies that he had _admitted_ his feelings for while they were on a solitary walk. A solitary walk where they had been set upon by rain and took shelter under a large tree. He realized with a start they had been running together, hand-in-hand, to the tree where they took shelter. They had been laughing moments ago about the ridiculousness of the situation and then he went and ruined it with his words. He could hardly take blame for the lightning, however.

The admission of his feelings he knew could be overlooked, so long as neither he nor Miss Bennet spoke of it again. _Miss Bennet cannot do much by way of anything at the moment,_ he thought dolefully. He glanced at her, unfortunately seeing no change in her state. The rest of this, though, would be harder to ignore. His intentions were for the best, but intentions generally didn't matter in such situations. She was a respectable young woman, but coming back unconscious and sopping wet (and with a ripped bodice no less!) after some hours being gone while carried by a man was not generally something a girl's reputation could return from without… a marriage. He fell back against the tree and brought a fist to his mouth in dismay. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam now knew two things: Firstly, he was likely going to have to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Secondly, whatever else came out of this, he knew his cousin was going to murder him.

_All right, Richard David Fitzwilliam, figure this out,_ he thought, glancing at Miss Elizabeth again. She looked paler than she had a moment before and was clearly not going to wake up anytime soon. He knew she needed to be somewhere warm and dry where she could have the benefit of a doctor.

_Well,_ thought he, _I can carry her back to the parsonage to the Collinses or I can take her to Rosings and… my Aunt._ He grimaced at the prospect of both of those options as neither one sounded particularly appealing. Fitzwilliam considered finding one of the tenants, but quickly realized that any chance they had of avoiding a scandal would be null if this were known outside of Rosings proper. He sighed. At the parsonage, the odious Collins would likely want to perform the ceremony right in his front parlor to avoid upsetting his esteemed patroness. If Fitzwilliam took her to Rosings, however, his Aunt or Darcy would listen to him. Wouldn't they? Darcy would try to help Elizabeth in any case, he assumed, even if their Aunt didn't want to. Will's love for Elizabeth, and certainly his money, surely wouldn't let her be unhappy in a marriage, even if she didn't love the man.

_Rosings it is._

He gently collected Elizabeth into his arms, careful to hold his coat around her torso and to have her head cradled protectively against his upper arm to keep it from bouncing. He held her limp body against his chest; she felt cold. He now felt guilty for letting her lie there so long, really only the span of a minute. He peeked out from under the tree, the driving rain seemed to have abated to a steady downpour and the lightning and thunder had moved off. He shrugged her weight higher onto his arms, _the both of us are already soaked and she needs help_, and walked out from under the branches of the tree towards Rosings and his Aunt Catherine.

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As ever, please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

I am positively shocked by the reception of this story! Shocked _and_ awed. You are all amazing. I just cannot believe the number of reviews and responses.

Please, keep your feedback coming as I appreciate every bit of it and I just hope that the rest does not disappoint! I have decided against the reader's choice plot (at least at this point). At the bottom of this chapter, I am going to address a few of the questions posed to better explain my ideas. I am happy to talk regarding this story through PM.

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Colonel Fitzwilliam was a few steps onto the wide lawn near the guest wing when he saw the horseman coming at him at a full gallop from the nearest corner of the park, about a quarter mile distant. He kept walking towards the house but eyed the rider, recognizing the color of his cousin's green coat though it currently was darkened with rainwater. _Darcy, thank God. _Relief from not having to deal with his Aunt first flooded the Colonel as his cousin approached, but he hugged Miss Elizabeth tighter to his body.

Darcy called his cousin's name as he brought his horse to a short mud- and grass-spraying stop. He knew Richard had been out walking before the storm hit, but he had not returned for a number of hours, nor had he been to call at the parsonage during that time. Darcy had checked with the Collinses and was alarmed to find Elizabeth likewise missing. Knowing both were good walkers who were generally unconcerned about the weather, he had started to worry.

Darcy quickly spied Elizabeth Bennet's limp body in Fitzwilliam's arms and he let out an uncharacteristically strained cry. He jumped down from his panting horse and immediately touched her cheek with tender fingers, alarmed at how pale and cold she was. "Is she…?" His voice was hollow. He couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Alive, but unconscious," Richard responded to Darcy's very obvious relief; his voice was heavy and guarded. "We were hiding from the storm under a tree and it was struck by lightening," Fitzwilliam explained, his pace not slowing towards the house, now only another few hundred feet distant. "She was hit by a falling branch…."

Ignoring his horse, Darcy circled Fitzwilliam as he walked. He was ascertaining for himself that Elizabeth appeared otherwise unharmed aside from a bump on her head, an injury that he took on faith given her current state. He eyed his cousin's leaf and twig-covered coat around her but decided it was likely an attempt to keep her warm… until he saw the bit of lace trailing out. Darcy glared at his cousin's worried face, his thoughts flying through his mind to what could only be the logical conclusion of what happened. _How could he do this to her? I trusted him with knowledge of my affections for Elizabeth and he felt the need to go and compromise her? _

_Oh, Lord. _

_They will have to marry. _Ire at his cousin's betrayal would come later, for now he could only think of Elizabeth's health and the probable end to this situation. "Richard."

Fitzwilliam was stoic, guessing from his cousin's tone he now assumed something else passed between Miss Elizabeth and himself aside from just a falling branch. He also knew his cousin's temper well enough to understand any explanation would fall on deaf ears at present. "William, she needs a doctor. The Collinses should be told, and her parents."

Darcy wanted to concede that point, but knew that something had to be done. Quickly. As much as he cared for his cousin and loved him as much as any brother, Richard had never voiced any appreciation of Elizabeth other than praise her success in dealing with their contemptible Aunt. He couldn't let _his _Elizabeth marry someone else. After all, there was the matter of fortune and future living conditions to be considered. Elizabeth was the daughter of a (admittedly rather poor) landed gentleman! She had no business being a military man's wife, no matter if said man was also the son of an Earl. "Richard."

Fitzwilliam, still stoic, was now also subdued. His mind had been through the options, multiple times. For the moment and unlike his cousin, his thoughts were only for Elizabeth's current health. "Take your horse and get her a doctor, Will. Please."

In a moment of sheer desperation, Darcy stopped directly in front of his cousin, the emotions playing on his face a mix between furiousness and pleading. When his cousin then stepped to the side every time he tried to go around him, Fitzwilliam had no choice but to stop and listen. The expression on Darcy's face became, if possible, only more serious. Had it been a different circumstance Darcy's waterlogged, lovesick and bedraggled appearance would have been hilarious.

"Listen to me, cousin. If you go in that house with her like that, Aunt Catherine will make you marry her as soon as she wakes. If not, Elizabeth's reputation will be ruined." ColonelFitzwilliam noticed two things about this speech that disturbed him, their veracity notwithstanding. The first being Darcy's slight disdainful stress on the word "you" and the second being his cousin's lack of formality using Miss Elizabeth's Christian name only. Now was not the time to comment on the latter, but the former needed to be addressed. He knew Darcy was right about their Aunt, and he knew that Darcy was alluding to their (referring to the two well-bred gentlemen now standing in the rain) disparity in fortunes. In not nearly so many words, Darcy was commenting on the Colonel's likely inability and his own abundant ability to provide for Miss Elizabeth in a suitable way. Fitzwilliam sighed, _not that again_, water dripping off his nose to add to the pool on the fabric of his coat that was covering Miss Elizabeth. "What do you propose?"

Darcy passed a pained glance over Elizabeth's still form. The expression on her face was peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping. She looked so defenseless and… almost… (he loathed to think it) right… in his cousin's arms. Darcy's heart lurched at the thoughts that came most unbidden into his imagination. He saw Richard carrying the laughing, smiling Elizabeth Bennet Fitzwilliam into a waiting carriage bound for a glorious Continent honeymoon. Upon discovering how wonderful their new daughter was, his Aunt and Uncle Matlock would set them up in a house in Town. Their later income would likely never be spectacular, but it wouldn't matter so long as the Earl and his wife would support them. Elizabeth and Richard would would have a brood of cheerfully impertinent sandy haired children with adorably fine eyes. Darcy's thoughts even fled so far afield as to imagine his irresponsible cousin Andrew's early demise and to see Richard become the next Earl and Elizabeth the next Lady Matlock.

The past few weeks he had seen the two converse and knew despite the unsuitability of their fortunes (though certainly Richard's marriage to a poor country girl would be far better thought of by their family than his own) she could be quite happy with Richard no matter their monetary circumstances. As it were, they would have tough times but would make it work.

Darcy would have to live his life watching her love another man.

He really did not know what he was going to say until the words were out of his mouth. His voice was quiet and controlled, much different than what his turbulent thoughts would have betrayed. "Give her to me." He put out his arms. "Please, Richard." His cousin studied him a moment, but carefully set the lady in Darcy's open arms.

Fearless in battle and not normally one to give up without a fight, Fitzwilliam schooled his face to look not quite expressionless, for once doing so better than Darcy could. His cousin did not need to see how much it hurt him to know that he had a better chance of providing the life she deserved than he did.

"I thought disguise of any sort was your abhorrence," Fitzwilliam commented, his tone flat and sounding dull and defeated. He knew full well what his cousin was at and needed to state at least some part of his dissent with Darcy's selfish and arrogant plan. He knew his cousin to be proud, but never thought his haughtiness extended so far.

Without a returning word, Darcy continued the walk towards the guest wing. By this point someone from the house had noticed them on the lawn. Before Darcy had gone out on horseback, Lady Catherine had started to organize search parties for the Colonel, laying out the rules and grids to be searched in an orderly and useful manner.

Richard grabbed the reins to the horse and glared bitterly at Darcy's back, seeing Elizabeth's half-booted feet and muddied skirts swinging as he walked away. _What I do not do for that man._ He had just willingly handed Miss Elizabeth to Darcy. Why had he done that? _Marriage to her would not have been so horrible, we would not have had the carriages and finery, but we could be happy._ He mounted the horse and rode off in the direction of Hunsford proper to call the doctor to Rosings, his thoughts solely on Miss Elizabeth.

As he walked towards the gardens outside the door to guest wing, Fitzwilliam Darcy reverently cradled Elizabeth in his arms, despairing the circumstance of their closeness. He felt that she was barely breathing and, despite his and his cousin's efforts, was very cold. She wasn't shivering, which was what was alarming him the most. _Cold people should shiver._ He pressed a kiss on her forehead before the footmen got too close. _Well, what does it matter anyway if they see me now?_

"Go have Mrs. Allweather prepare a room," Darcy ordered the footmen in a yell. "This woman needs a warm bed and a change of clothes. The Colonel is bringing the doctor. Hurry!" The footmen sped back towards the house and Darcy knew it was only a matter of minutes before all of his orders would be done. He kissed Elizabeth's forehead again, relishing the feeling of her soft skin on his lips.

He loved her. Most ardently.

As he had expected would be the case, his Aunt was at the top of the staircase to the guest wing, hands on her hips in great consternation. His grip on Elizabeth's body tightened protectively as he climbed the stairs, careful not to hit her head or feet on the banisters. The ever-observant Lady Catherine did not miss the tightening of his arms, the state of the girl's clothing or the look on his face and each and all of them seriously displeased her. "What do you think you are doing, nephew? You go out to find Fitzwilliam and you come back carrying Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Put her down at once, I refuse to see my daughter's fiancé in such a position. I cannot believe - "

"We shall not speak of this matter now, Aunt Catherine," Darcy said in his best Master of Pemberley voice, one that even persuaded his Aunt to listen and comply. "Miss Elizabeth is gravely injured. Richard is fetching the doctor." He pushed past his Aunt and strode towards the guest rooms.

Lady Catherine noticed the girl's abnormally pale demeanor as they passed, realizing she actually _was_ injured. _Certainly, even Miss Bennet is sensible enough not to have allowed such an important man as __**my**__ nephew to carry her without being very ill indeed. He is holding Miss Bennet much the wrong way to protect her head from further trauma. William is such a generous man to be so kind to someone below his station. He is very much fit to marry my Anne. _At this thought, Lady Catherine blanched at the realization that the engagement was in real danger. Perhaps her nephew could be extracted from such a compromising situation in this case because of the Bennet girl's fortunate misadventure.

Darcy could see the machines working in his Aunt's head, guessing with some certainty what the topic was. He broke her from her thoughts: "Which room shall I take her to, Aunt?"

Suitably distracted for the time being, Lady Catherine did what she did best: thoroughly manage things to the smallest detail. She personally escorted Darcy, all but pulling him behind her by grabbing his coatsleeve, to the guestroom Mrs. Allweather was preparing for Miss Bennet. She then shooed Darcy out with a severely admonishing look and waited with her back turned as Miss Bennet was carefully undressed, toweled off, redressed in fresh clothes (a very old night dress of her sister's, it was far nicer than anything she could own herself and it would not do to have the girl borrow something of Anne's even if they were the same size!) and put into a bed that had been warmed just so with heated bricks. Throughout this attention from the maids, Miss Elizabeth did not stir, nor did her color or facade improve. Upon seeing her laid properly in the bed with a fire glowing warm and bright in the room, Lady Catherine was satisfied that Miss Bennet would be able to see the doctor and be proclaimed she was well on her way to health and could be sent to the parsonage to heal completely. _It is certainly best if that girl is out of the house as soon as possible_. With a curt nod, Lady Catherine left the room. Not seeing her nephew in the hallway as she half expected to, she assumed he had gone to warm up and change, though he had in truth already made his way down to the servant's entrance to await the doctor. Lady Catherine stalked away continuing to think on how she would fix this unfortunate situation between her nephew and the unworthy and impertinent Bennet girl.

During the interim as he waited for the return of his cousin and the appearance of the doctor, Darcy fell back onto habit and paced. He could barely decide whether to be outside in the rain to greet them as soon as possible or whether to stand inside the entryway to appear more proper. In his agitation, he settled for half of each. He had not yet changed clothes, so he was unbothered by the rain and he hardly noticed anything in his worry for Miss Elizabeth. Not twenty minutes later, Charlotte Collins arrived along with the Hunsford doctor. Mr. Collins could not find a reason to try to fit into the two-person gig with them. Darcy thought the travel arrangements must have been Richard's quite brilliant idea.

Mr. Darcy had never been so relieved to see Charlotte Collins and handed her down from the gig himself, leaving the groom to take the reins from the doctor and lead the small carriage to the stable. Only learning the bare minimum from the Colonel, the doctor asked Darcy for a short history of what happened on the way up the stairs. Unsure of what his cousin had said, and truly of what had actually happened, Darcy mentioned something vague about a tree branch and how her only injury seemed to be on her head. Once arrived at Elizabeth's room, the doctor then quickly shooed Mr. Darcy out to do his exam but allowed Charlotte to remain. Dr. Smith noticed the man's great agitation and with an understanding look told him to go get cleaned up and warm. Darcy glanced down at the pool of water around his feet as well as the line that followed his footsteps and left with a nod of thanks, realizing it would do him no good to become sick as well.

The little while later when he returned to Elizabeth's rooms, he found the Doctor was just finishing talking to Charlotte and Lady Catherine. Mrs. Collins was a half step further back and had her eyes down, but she noticed Darcy's approach first. She cast him an odd glance before his Aunt noticed him and addressed him. The intended message came across, however: Mrs. Collins wished to speak to him privately. Knowing he was not likely to enjoy the conversation, he was nonetheless glad to know Elizabeth had a trusted (and sensible!) friend with her in the absence of her family.

Darcy was vaguely annoyed the doctor had not waited to speak with him as well, but realized with chagrin Lady Catherine would not have allowed it. She would, of course, hear the news first and would then disseminate the information as she saw fit. Mr. Darcy heard much of what his Aunt said while she spoke over the doctor though he stood right in front of her, in a haze of partial attention. The next few hours were critical, and if Miss Bennet then made it through the night, there was a chance for her. It was best to take things day by day. Her family should be told, the doctor had cautioned, and should not to expect her to come home for some time. The "_if at all"_ was left unsaid, but was not unheard. _She will likely have to remain at Rosings for a number of weeks,_ Darcy thought, _and so I shall as well therefore_.

Lady Catherine was clearly not happy that Miss Bennet was intruding quite uninvited in her guestroom, injured or not, and was now saying so in almost any manner possible. Seeing her nephew's great distraction and clear worry for his own future and thinking him to be unwillingly entrapped by the girl, she railed against Miss Bennet's obviously artful intentions. Indeed, Lady Catherine was quite incensed. Dr. Smith, not wishing to have her as a patient as well, had the sense not to look too appalled at Lady Catherine's blustering, but carefully mentioned to the Lady that Miss Bennet's healing time would likely improve from a quiet environs. Somewhat mollified, Lady Catherine took her anger and the doctor in the direction of her parlor to be benefitted from tea and biscuits with the parson. The rain had stopped while Darcy was changing, and he had seen Mr. Collins' quick approach (the man seemed to be nearly running) from the parsonage through his window.

Darcy excused himself to pace in the hallway. What could he do? He was expected in Town in three days time for important business with his solicitor and he had already put the meeting off twice. As much as he would also be loath to leave and have only Colonel Fitzwilliam stay – no, there would really be no way Darcy would allow _that_ – Darcy knew his cousin was soon required to return to his commanding officer in Town as well. Also guessing Richard would agree, he just couldn't leave Elizabeth alone to the mercy of his Aunt and her obnoxious parson. Mrs. Collins certainly would do the job of nursemaid admirably, but she was also needed at the parsonage and could hardly run her own household to his Aunt's standards, distract her husband _and_ care for Elizabeth simultaneously. He certainly couldn't stay in the room with her himself, no matter what society's strictures said. She was unable to speak in her unconscious state, and so at this moment was not technically his fiancée. He wished to be able to vouch for the manner of her care, but at this moment his hands were somewhat tied.

He thought he heard his name in the hallway and turned around to find Mrs. Collins observing him intently. She looked very distressed for her friend and glanced down at her hands when he looked at her. "Mr. Darcy?" She repeated his name somewhat timidly, aware she had finally gotten his attention when he walked towards her with purpose.

"What can I _do_, Mrs. Collins?" He tried not to think about how desperate his voice sounded. He did not like not being in control.

If the lady noticed his tone, she did not acknowledge it. She did manage to help with some of his doubts and fears however. "If you wish, I can write to Lizzy's parents about… this. Sir, I believe Jane is in Town with her Aunt and Uncle and would greatly appreciate coming to care for her sister, if it is not too much to ask." It was clear and understandable that Mrs. Collins was uncomfortable in requesting his Aunt to invite one more Bennet, much less the potential of the whole extended family, to Rosings for Elizabeth's sake. Especially after such a display as Lady Catherine had just done. Darcy nodded in understanding, again appreciative of Mrs. Collins' good sense and pragmatism.

Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared in the doorway connecting the guest wing to the family wing. His sandy hair was still sopping wet but his clothes were clean and dry. He carried a towel and was rubbing at his hair to dry it, apologizing to Mrs. Collins with a wry grin for the informality. He must have just arrived and rushed to dress as quickly as he could. The Colonel looked about as miserable as Darcy felt, causing Darcy to wonder if he looked that bad as well. Charlotte's gaze bounced between the two men and she was intrigued by what she saw: fear, desperation, heartache and… jealousy. Both men were casting nervous glances at Elizabeth's doorway and simultaneously also eyeing each other. The conversation lulled as the Colonel walked up but was rekindled by Mrs. Collins gently excusing herself to sit with her injured friend. The cousins were left alone in the hall and both knew this day was far from over.

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As I said above, I wish to address a few questions and explain some of my choices:

I write as the muses direct. I do not know (nor do I think I would tell at this point if I knew) which of the two Fitzwilliams Lizzy will end up with. I do plan on fleshing out both of the gentlemens' characters and so we shall see who wins. I will note, however, that there is currently no "Colonel Fitzwilliam" character tag in the story options. Take that information as you will. :)

This story is taking place after Darcy's three walks with Elizabeth through the park and is "what-iffing" starting during her walk with the Colonel. This means that Darcy has not yet proposed to Elizabeth and he is still convinced she expects him to offer for her and that she doesn't quite deserve him and couldn't say no because of her situation in life. It is because of this belief that I think he would act as he is. We don't yet know if Elizabeth and the Colonel had the chance to speak of Jane and Mr. Bingley's separation, and so she may or may not have as many arguments against him.

So the questions become (I am asking for opinions, which may influence the plot): do you think the Bennets will all descend upon Rosings, or will it just be Jane? Will the Gardiners come as well? How do you think the conversations between the Colonel, Darcy and Lady Catherine will go? What will Darcy do to help Elizabeth? Will she wake up quickly or will it take some time?

As ever, please let me know what you think! I appreciate all comments, and would like to improve my writing.


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